


cross the line

by shoelaces



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Coffee Shops, Dubious Consent, F/M, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Obsession, Stalking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2020-09-23 12:55:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20340454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shoelaces/pseuds/shoelaces
Summary: Josephine Lightbourne knows she's meant to be with Bellamy Blake. The only problem: the name on his wrist is Clarke Griffin.Her father always told her never to let her lack of a soulmark stop her from finding love. If she wants Bellamy Blake to belong to her, he will belong to her.He just has to think she's Clarke Griffin.





	cross the line

**Author's Note:**

> My contribution to WTFluff: a soulmate AU hinged on obsession, lies, and some people absolutely not being nice and pure. Click away if this isn't your thing, and for the love of god don't tell me about it. I'll warn for triggering content as best I can.

Bellamy Blake is Josephine Lightbourne’s soulmate.

Well, not _ technically _ . She doesn’t have a soulmark, was one of the 1% of the population not to gain that all important name on her wrist when she turned eighteen. But if she was to have one, she’s positive it would be Bellamy Blake. He is just _ delicious. _

The first time they meet, she bumps into him in the bookshop, and he’s in uniform from the local coffee shop, the name Bellamy (how beautiful and unique, she thinks) printed on his badge. He is perusing through some classical books, something Greek she thinks, though she remembers only him from this day when she looks back on it later. He is looking at them with this intense gaze, like they are the only thing in the world that matter, and she suddenly feels a desperate yearning to be looked at like that, to have his eyes search her face, her body, for him to burn up with his lust for her. 

She knows as soon as she sees him that he should belong to her. She could tell everything about him. He was sad, intense, angry, but she knows he is kind. Buying mythology books, but he isn’t the fake smart type, she can tell. He would be intelligent but never pretentious. He’d never ever shout at his soulmate, and he would buy that lucky woman flowers after work. When she gets pregnant, he will kiss her belly and write lists of baby names with her. He is so clear to her, like the rest of the world is beyond a smudged window, and he is the only thing that isn’t locked behind it.

When he raises his arms to take something from the top shelf and his sleeve falls back to expose his golden, freckled arm which is clearly ridiculously strong, she can see a name that starts with C printed on his wrist. 

It nearly makes her sick with anger. How could she not have a tattoo with a name, when he is so clearly the man of her dreams? How could anyone else see what she sees?

When she brushes past him, letting her fingers brush his arm, he murmurs an apology with a deep, gentle voice that makes her whole body feel warm. Of course he has noticed her. They belong together. This C girl will never see that like she does. 

She picks up another copy of the same book, pretends to study it for a moment. When she looks back over at him, he raises his copy and taps the cover, a dorky little smile on his face. Her chest tightens with something that feels almost like sadness as she returns the gesture and they both go back to their books, identical smiles on their faces.

“Hey,” he says, and her heart picks up, humming in her chest. “You should check this out.” He takes another book from the shelf, gently places it in her hands.

“Thank you,” Josie replies, her voice a little reverent. “I’ll check it out.”

“Enjoy your reading,” he tells her, smiling again. No one has been this kind to her in months. He seems to really mean it.

His smile falls away when he leaves to buy his books. It breaks her heart that it might not have been a real smile. Where is his soulmate? Soulmates are supposed to make everything better. 

Josie is certain he hasn’t met her. He’s lonely, like she is, she can tell. There’s a sadness around him, and she’s aching to take it away. Whatever it takes to make him smile again, properly. She wants him to smile for _ her. _

That’s how the idea starts. He’ll probably never meet C anyway. And, well, if he believes in her, isn’t that the same thing?

She goes home and orders one of those little silver necklaces with a delicate letter C resting on her chest. It’s the little details that count. If his mind makes the association between her necklace and his soulmate, well then she hasn’t even told a lie.

He doesn’t know her name. She’s new in town, and they’ve only crossed paths three times in their neighbourhood, and Josie engineered the second two herself. Bellamy works in the coffee shop on Saturday mornings, she learns when she sees him behind the counter there a week later after visiting every day, so it wasn’t hard to bump into him there. He gives her the loveliest smile, and he makes good coffee, like she knew he would, but he never takes her name.

There was a time she was bitter about that. She had remembered his name, after all, even though he had it on his badge. But in the end, it makes it so much easier to get him.

Her plan is fully formed within a week. She needs to find out the rest of the name on Bellamy’s wrist. Once she has the name, it’s smooth sailing. She’s older and wiser now, knows the tricks of this trade.

She’s done this before, or tried to. When she was 19, she wrote the name _ Gabriel Santiago _on her wrist in Sharpie and showed it to him after class. He had been sweet to her about it, but the name on his wrist was different, and he stopped talking to her when his name smudged away on her skin.

He was never supposed to be her real soulmate though. It was a childish crush, something to pass the time.

When she tried the same trick on the new guy in her theatre group, Dave, at 21, it went better. She used stronger pens, refreshed the writing regularly, had him going for a few months even. Her name wasn’t even on his wrist, but he was okay with that. Bisexual crisis or something, she wasn’t really listening. But then he got so _ boring _, and he was kind of obsessed with her, so she cut him off. Told him she didn’t believe in soulmates anymore.

They reported his suicide in the local papers three days later, and her father tutted when she called him, and told her not to be so flirty. He knew what she had done, of course. She didn’t keep any secrets from her daddy. He called them childish antics, told her mother not to worry, but he was always a bit frosty after that.

Bellamy is different though, Josephine is sure of it. She’s a grown adult now, and this isn’t a silly crush, this is real. Bellamy makes Gabriel and Dave look painfully bland. This is the real one. She cannot afford to fuck this up. 

This time, she’s going to be the soulmate. Soulmate culture has infiltrated fucking everything. No one, not even in the movies, ends up with the girl who isn’t their soulmate, unless their soulmate is dead. She doesn’t have a name on her wrist, doesn’t stand a chance as herself, so she’ll be whoever she needs to be to make him love her.

-

A girl called Octavia is working when she comes in the next time. She’s wearing a short sleeved t-shirt so she can see the name _ Lincoln Woods _on her wrist. The t-shirt is kind of insane in this weather- Bellamy has been wearing a jumper every time she’s seen him and it means she can’t see his full soulmark. Very irritating.

She doesn’t look twice at Josie, not in the special way that Bellamy does that makes her feel like the only person in the world, just gives a practiced smile, and asks for her order.

Josie cuts to the chase.

“Do you know Bellamy? He was working here yesterday, I think.” Keep it casual. You think. You do not know.

Octavia pulls a face. “Unfortunately.”

It sends a hot flush of anger through her. How dare this random girl make fun of Bellamy behind his back? She’s nothing compared to him. Nothing. But she won’t tell her anything if she starts a fight, so she barks out a laugh and pushes forward.

“You don’t like him?”

“He’s my brother,” Octavia says. “I’m allowed.”

Oh. That’s a little better, she supposes. It still pisses her off.

“Why are you asking anyway?” Octavia narrows her eyes. “He’s not gonna go out with you. He’s turned into a total pathetic romantic, he’s waiting for his soulmate. If you’re looking to sleep around, you’re like three years too late.”

Octavia is a talker. This is good.

“That’s the thing,” Josie says, adopting her sweetest smile. “I only just found out his name! Bellamy Blake is my soulmate!”

Octavia’s face splits into a huge, proper grin. When she smiles like that, Josie can see the resemblance to her brother. She doesn’t hold a candle to him, but she’s pretty enough.

“You’re Clarke Griffin?!”

Josie arranges her face into a delighted beam. “Yes! Is that the name on his wrist too?” She holds up the little C necklace like it’s proof. Octavia isn’t as smart as Bellamy, she doesn’t need to work hard right now. She doesn’t even ask to see the soulmark.

“Yeah, that’s it!” Octavia scrambles around the counter for her phone. “Fuck it, there’s no one else here. I’m calling him.”

She laughs. “God, I’m so excited! I thought I’d never meet him, even though Bellamy is a pretty distinctive name, right? And Octavia too!”

“Our parents are dead,” Octavia says flatly. “That stupid name is going to stay a mystery. But my brother named me. And he won’t make a fucking Facebook, so he’s impossible to find. But I suppose you don’t have one either, do you? I’ve looked.”

So he’s an orphan. It makes her heart feel like bursting. Bellamy doesn’t deserve to suffer like that. Poor, lovely Bellamy. She wants to wrap him up in bubble wrap and hide him away where nothing and no one but her can reach him.

“I only just moved here,” she says, because she doesn’t know how to respond to that out loud, can’t convey the depths of that grief. “I don’t have any friends here yet.” It’s true. She’s lonely as all fuck. No one really seems interested in being her friend.

“Well, if you’re my brother’s soulmate then you’ll be in with our lot,” Octavia replies. She goes to say something else, but Bellamy must pick up the phone because she doesn’t continue. 

“Bellamy,” she says urgently into the phone. “You’re never gonna guess who just walked in here. Go on, guess.”

There’s a mumble on the other end of the phone. Josie tries to listen in, but she can’t quite make it out.

“No. What the fuck Bellamy, why would I call you about Jasper?” Pause. “Well, you’re a bad guesser then. It’s Clarke Griffin! Well, _ yeah,_ presumably it is _ that _ Clarke Griffin.”

She takes her phone away from her ear. “Do you have time to stay here for a bit? Bell can be here in like half an hour.”

She isn’t ready for this. Her hair is lank, she’s wearing a hoodie, and she’s only just learned the name she’ll have to take. There’s so much to do. She has no ID in Clarke’s name, no soulmark with his. 

She can not afford to mess this up. Bellamy deserves only the best from their first meeting.

“I can’t,” she says with a sad smile. “I have an appointment to keep. Can we set something up soon?”

“Boo,” Octavia says, pulling a face. “I wanted to see you meet!”

She’s so vapid. Josie will have to keep her away from them when she and Bellamy are together. He won’t have time to keep her out of trouble once he has her.

“I’ll be free sometime soon,” Josie tells Octavia. That gives her time to build herself the identity. “I can meet him after his shift one day?”

Octavia agrees, albeit reluctantly, clearly absolutely dying to see her brother meet his soulmate. They trade numbers, although Josie has absolutely no intention of ever texting this girl, and she leaves with a free latte and the name Clarke Griffin humming in her brain.

-

_ The night before her eighteenth birthday, Josie is practically bouncing off the walls. Tomorrow was the day. She'll finally know who her soulmate is, the one person who would take her to have and to hold, even though everyone else gave up on her fast. Maybe they would be on Facebook or Twitter. She could be talking to them this time tomorrow. _

_ This time tomorrow she might not be alone anymore. _

_ She goes to bed practically trembling with excitement. Each time she wakes up in the night, another dream of the name on her wrist melting away, she checks her wrist, finding it blank each time. This is okay, she tells herself. It could appear at any time on her birthday. _

_ It doesn’t. _

_ Her dad spends the day trying to reassure her as she paces back and forth, hysteria bubbling under the surface. _

_ “It’ll appear soon, sweetheart,” her mother says, stroking her hair so that she can see the name Russell Lightbourne on the skin of her wrist. “Just be patient.” _

_ “Everyone else had theirs by now!” Josie nearly shouts back. “Mom, it’s not coming!” _

_ Her mother, bless her, stays hopeful right until midnight. Josie has already long given up by then. She can’t stop staring at the pale, unmarked skin. The empty space there feels as ugly and obvious as a scar, marking her out as a loveless girl, a lonely creature. _

_ At midnight, she bursts into tears. Why doesn’t she deserve love? How can there be seven billion people on this planet and not a single one was made to love her? _

_ “It’s okay, baby,” soothes her father, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You go out there and make your own destiny. You find someone, and you make them love you.” _

-

_ Make them love you. _

Josie sits in the worn leather chair at _ Soul Ink, _which is undeniably the absolute shadiest place she’s ever been. She’s not designed for places like these. She belongs in pretty apartments and sunny parks with her feet up and someone she loves by her side.

Soul Ink is a ratty little tattoo place that she read about on some forum for people without soulmates and had to drive for hours to reach. It’s under no delusions about its shadiness, and the two people working here aren’t pretending to be polite.

Their names are Echo and Roan, though she’s pretty sure those aren’t their real names. Echo doesn’t look like she much wants to be there, but Roan seems perfectly at ease as he sits next to her and takes down the name she wants to take, and the name she wants on her wrist.

Whilst Echo disappears with her photo and the name Clarke Griffin to make up a passport, a driving licence, and even an old student card, Roan does her tattoo. He has strong hands with dirty nails, and she wants to squirm away from him. 

There are no photos on the wall to distract her, these aren’t these kind of tattoos, so she counts the cracks in the ceiling instead.

It hurts like a bitch, but when it’s over she has Bellamy’s name printed on her wrist in the exact font all soulmarks are in. It looks so authentic that it tears her up inside. This is what could have been, this is what will be.

She has to wait for the redness to go down before she can meet him, but that's okay. 

“Thank you,” she tells Roan. “It’s very good.”

He just nods with that same half smile. She wonders how you end up working in a place like this. Both of them are wearing long sleeves, so she can’t tell if they have their own soulmates, or if they’re playing a long con like she is. Maybe they’re each other’s soulmates.

Echo comes back later with the fake IDs, drops them unceremoniously into Josie’s lap. There are tiny, intricate braids in her hair, and she has a sharp face with high cheekbones. Awfully pretty, but nothing except Bellamy seems to spark any excitement in her these days.

“These are impressive,” she tells Echo. They even look like she’s had them a few years, slightly scratched and faded. She’s not sure how Echo’s done that.

“What’s a nice girl like you doing here?” Echo asks. “We never get pretty little college girls around these parts.”

“She’s just trying to get some guy’s dick,” Roan says dismissively. “Kids and true love.”

“It’s not like that!” Josie snaps. “It’s _ more _.”

“Okay,” Echo says, clearly not giving a shit. “Pays the bills. Just don’t tell us whatever you’re planning. Plausible deniability if the cops ever find out about this place.”

She can’t imagine why the cops would need to get involved in her love story with Bellamy. She fully intends to tell him the truth one day, when he knows her properly. He’ll understand, and they can move past it. No one needs to know anything except him.

That said, she gets the vibe that she shouldn’t push either of these people any further, so she thanks them politely again, pays up what they’re asking for, and slips back out into the sunlight, a new girl with a name on her wrist who is finally made to be loved.

She’s restless while it heals. It doesn’t take long to look completely real, but every day that drags by without meeting Bellamy winds her up, and she knows Octavia must be wondering what’s keeping her so busy.

Eventually, the day comes. Josie shoots a text to Octavia one Saturday morning, asks if Bellamy is working that day. Octavia replies with so many exclamation points that WhatsApp gives her a Read More option, then gives her the hours of his shift.

She picks out the perfect outfit, short sleeves so he can see his name on her skin, a skirt so he can see her legs. She wants him to think she’s hot.

She nearly crashes her bike twice on the journey there, she’s so excited. 

Octavia is in there when she goes in, sitting on one of the tables with her legs swinging back and forth. Bizarrely, they’re dressed quite similarly. She better not try to steal any of his attention, she thinks, then decides she’s being ridiculous.

“Clarke!” Octavia says brightly. “Bellamy’s in the back.” She tips her head back and bellows at the top of her voice, “_ Bellamy_!”

Josie’s heart nearly stops when he walks out, a literal tall, dark, and handsome man, but he’s no stranger. She feels like she’s known him all her life. He’s wearing a dark blue top, but it’s just short enough that she can see the name on his wrist. 

“Hi,” he says, and his face eases into a smile. “Bookshop girl!”

_ He remembers her. _

“Yeah,” she says, unable to stop herself beaming. “Bookshop girl. Clarke.” The name rolls off her tongue.

“Bellamy,” he says, and holds out a hand, which she shakes. It’s an odd choice, but it feels good. “Sorry I wasn’t out here to greet you. Octavia insisted I make a dramatic entrance.”

Octavia, as it happens, is sat with her chin in her hands and a huge smile. Josie wants her not to watch them, wants this moment to be completely pure, but she can’t start this relationship kicking his sister out.

“That’s sweet,” she says. “But I like authentic.”

“I like authentic too,” Bellamy says, and squeezes her hand, and Josie feels her whole heart lift as Octavia squeals, and Bellamy smiles that wonderful smile again.


End file.
